Quoth the Auditor, ‘Nevermore’

Adapted from Edgar Allan Poe’s ‘The Raven’ – first published in 1845

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a project artifact until my eyes were sore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my office door.
`’Tis some visitor,’ I muttered, `tapping at my office door –
Only this, and nothing more.’

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; – vainly I had sought to borrow
From my current project a surcease of sorrow for the lost “Project G4” –
For the rare and radiant project whom the PMO named G4-
Nameless here for evermore.

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,’ said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my office door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you’ – here I opened wide the door; –
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `G4!’
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `G4!’
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the office turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,’ said I, `surely that is sound coming through the vents;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore –
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; –
‘Tis the wind and nothing more!’

Open here I flung my door, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately auditor of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, standing outside my office door –
Standing and pointing at me from outside my office door –
Stood, and pointed, and nothing more.

Then this auditor beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thou are no maven, thou,’ I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient auditor wandering from the nightly shore –
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!’
Quoth the auditor, `Nevermore.’

Much I marvelled this ungainly auditor to hear discourse so plainly,
Though his answer little meaning – little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living project being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing auditor outside his office door –
Man or woman outside the darkened hallway outside his office door,
With such name as `Nevermore.’

But the auditor, standing lonely in the darkened hall, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered – not an eyelash then he fluttered –
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before –
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.’
Then the auditor said, `Nevermore.’

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,’ said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Hired from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore –
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of “Never-nevermore.”‘

But the auditor still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of auditor and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous auditor –
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous auditor
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.’

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the being whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the monitor-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the monitor-light gloating o’er,
G4 shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,’ I cried, `thy PMO hath lent thee – by these directors he has sent thee
Respite – respite and nepenthe from thy memories of G4!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost G4!’
Quoth the auditor, `Nevermore.’

`Prophet!’ said I, `thing of evil! – prophet still, if auditor or devil! –
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted –
On this home by horror haunted – tell me truly, I implore –
Is there – is there balm in Gilead? – tell me – tell me, I implore!’
Quoth the auditor, `Nevermore.’

`Prophet!’ said I, `thing of evil! – prophet still, if auditor or devil!
By that sky that bends above us – by that PMO we both adore –
Tell this soul with sorrow specked if, within what the customers expect,
It shall clasp a sainted project whom the PMO named G4 –
Clasp a rare and radiant project, whom the PMO named G4?’
Quoth the auditor, `Nevermore.’

`Be that word our sign of parting, auditor or fiend!’ I shrieked upstarting –
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! – quit thy presence outside my door!
Take thy red pen from out my heart, and take thy form from out my door!’
Quoth the auditor, `Nevermore.’

And the auditor, never flitting, still is gritting, unremitting
Standing on the floor just outside my office door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted – nevermore!

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